From Dusk to Dawn
by TheBlankPageattheBackofaBook
Summary: The moment Ciel's fetal blood stretched to rebirth, Sebastian was bound by his umbilical cord. Now, forty years later and almost desperate to feed, a new demon by the name of Bathory comes along with a new covenant that will only cost his flesh.
1. Chapter 1

_In a midst of red rivulets and blackness she stood_

_And he entered through the iron gate that sealed her perfect dungeon_

_Tell me I am beautiful_

**_You are beautiful...I do not lie like those humans do._**

_Tell me you love me_

**_I do not hate like those humans do_**

_Never leave me..._

**_(Never leave me...)_**

_Never_

**_(Never)_**

_Let me die...  
_

* * *

Dull, red eyes scanned the streets calmly, ebony bangs hung over his tired eyes. Forty years and yet he had not any sign of aging, internally he was much different. This was indeed, Sebastian Michaelis, the demon butler of Ciel Phantomhive, only it was no longer Ciel Phantomhive. The boy walked at his side, his blue eyes scanning the street as well. Many things changed since they had deported four decades ago. He had not changed much either, he was still a small being appearing to be the human age of thirteen. Many things had aged toward their end in London though. Mechanical machines known as 'automobiles' rode the landscape on the stone roads, the clothes had changed somewhat to a less Victorian decor. Nonetheless, the streets themselves of stone and pavement had not seemed to age, only it's occupants. The cold cement veins bore a sort of radiation that twisted Sebastian's heart, memories of when the city burnt and his final order's fruition...at least, the fruition it'd never come too. The smoke from tall, metal chimneys could be seen fluttering about like dusky butterflies sucking the nectar from the clear air. It was thick, and brought distaste to the demon. It bore a foul scent that reminded him of his covenant, and reminded him of the flames he'd never see in its beauty and integrity because of several beings that had been spawned from its ash.

A few or less trees lined the streets every other corner or so, autumn was setting in a beautiful spectrum of blood red and gold, bronze and brown, from green with life to brittle with death. Like the same butterflies as the black winged ones of London's industry, they fluttered at their feet. Sebastian secretly admired the view, as humans were lucky to have a second chance while he did not. He was trapped in the eternal winter of autumn, with life serving the dead with endless, undying devotion to the waltz of the earth's axis. He could see his life in that perfect rainbow of dedication, frozen in grief and sacrifice, dance against the cold stone of the streets. It reminded him of Grell, as he had not seen him for such a long time, and Madame Red. The lives of the wicked, those who debauched the meaning of lovemaking and childbearing, had been shed on these streets. He swore he could feel himself being ripped open with that chainsaw, and his depraved livelihood ripped out-it had been feed to his lord, the Phantomhive he followed earnestly and with no question. Alas this Romantic's Romance had come to a Gothic chill, for he was the wicked now served the wicked.

As they walked along they passed several buildings, one known as the Phantomhive Toy Store (which was abandoned and boarded up), the other a candy shop, and even the Undertaker's drab old place. However, unlike the other stores too old to be used any longer, the shop's exterior was refreshed and indeed mimicking Autumn in stone. It was dead and yet with good meaning, to bring life to that which_ seemed_ dead. They had not expected to see the sign freshly cleaned and the silver-haired man sitting against the wall with that eerie grin on his face. His wardrobe had hardly changed since they last saw him forty years ago and he seemed very high in spirits to see them.

"Well, well, well," he grinned, webbing his fingers one over the other, "It is good to see you again, Earl, and just after I buried Tanaka...Truly this is a good sign,"

"I am not here to see you, Undertaker. Nor have I any interest of my servants' happenings," Ciel retorted, grimacing at the man somewhat, "I am simply here on a whim,"

"And Mr. Butler?" he stood, circling the demon, "My my, are you hungry?"

Sebastian grimaced but remained calm. Indeed, he was quite hungry. Within his servitude he was no allowed any other soul except that of his master and he had no access to such a privilege now. He had grown dusty inside, and almost weak to his hunger in that sense. He felt as if that spider of a demon was still alive and within him, weaving webs around his inside and sucking the life out. It was indeed a seed of venom he had planted and that maternal demoness had reaped it for his liking. Had he known it was a tainted dish he would have prepared a new dish that would have better suited him and his master-that was not an option, to his chagrin. Thus, in his eternity, he had found ways around his hunger in his predicament. It was quite depressing for him, to spend his immortality on this child that was not meant to be a demon.

He had lived long before the nation of England came to be, he had seen wonders and purities, dynasties and kingdoms, fall to humanity's greed and short years. Now he had no life, virtually he was stuck between the stone of law and the flesh of his contract, and had no life but his master's.

"I am well, I assure you," he answered politely. The mortician chuckled and covered his mouth somewhat.

"How about some entertainment? Surely it'll bring color back to your eyes, Mr. Butler," he asked, pulling two tickets out from under his sleeve, "Two young lovers died in a crash yesterday and I took these from their bodies. Tickets to the Diva of Estonia, have you heard of her?"

He turned to the Earl, smirking knowingly at his humor, "I am just certain you shall enjoy her show. It will certainly be one hell of a song,"

He turned to Sebastian, "Ne, Mr. Butler? And after the show your master can try out one of my custom coffins!"

* * *

Ciel remembered his mansion quite clearly, behind the dust many portraits were still rather in tact despite the rusted frames. The dance floor had become tainted though with tarnish and the pillars with unwelcome cobwebs. Yet, as the wind blew through the halls as his servant opened the windows and door, they blew like curtains to reveal the true color. By now, he assumed his cousin was early into her fifties and a grandmother. He hadn't returned to marry her, and had left rather abruptly to pursue his new life. He stepped onto the carpet and marble where he and Elizabeth had his last dance, smiling coyly at the memory. It had been ever so pleasant to leave her, to let her live a life free of his coldness and also to free himself of her light. It was an invited burden he welcomed leaving.

"My Lord," Sebastian nodded, "Shall I see if your old wardrobe is still in tact? If it is your wish to see the Diva, we must find you a decent suit,"

"All my clothes are old," Ciel told him, sliding a finger over the dusty rail and grimacing at the dust that had accumulated on the wood, "Fix them and then clean this place up,"

The demon held back a sigh, "Yes, my lord,"


	2. Chapter 2

The weather seemed quite fair, the air was fresh and crisp, the wind held a pleasant chill, and the garden held an array of scents. All of these fragrances were pleasant and almost like a sort of invisible incense. They mixed together as one, every dot of pollen that floated in the air, held a fiber of its own origin as it blended with the wind and the other pollen bulbs. In the air, many autumn leaves of red and bronze color, and few yellow, fluttered about in the gentle wind with flower petals. It was obvious that Finnian had left the garden unattended and rather wild when he left the mansion. Roses of red and white had overgrown each other, orchids and violets grew in a jumble of dominance and stature. The trees roots had uprooted in some areas as flowers and decorative herbs scanned over the green lawn for water and sustenance in their struggle for dominance.

Thus, with a sigh, Sebastian set to work with a belt of gardening tools around his waist. It hadn't taken long for him clean the mansion and prepared a new wardrobe for his master. He was a demon, after all, and one hell of a butler. As of the moment, the young master was taking a nap. For the last few years he wished to undergo such a blissful thing, but by the orders of the contract he could not. The peace and tranquility of the garden sustained him though from the thought. As he continued along, snipping stems or uprooting certain plants, he came across a new feature to the garden. Yes, the Phantomhive grew berries of the sorts for crepes and cakes and so on. The apple tree was new though, and with their red skin they seemed all too tempting. Licking his lips, he decided he would take a moment to indulge in the sour-sweet fruit. He leaned up and plucked the ripest, reddest one before biting down. His stomach protested immediately against it. He had ways of creating the illusion of fullness to elude the mortification of his contract. Over the years tolerance began to build and so, even as he dreaded it, he spat the apple out and tossed the remains of it over the walls of the manor.

"SEBAS-CHAN!" an over-enthusiastic voice called, strong thin arms assaulted his shoulders. With a sigh he realized who this was, but decided against trying to pry the shinigami off as he was much too tired to care.

"Where have you been lover?" Grell whined, nuzzling his neck affectionately, "I missed you so SO very much! I stood outside your window calling your name for hours and hours...Day and night...Well...William did drag me off to work! Such a meany! But I did plant this tree-the forbidden fruit of our love and now we can blossom beneath it! Oh, my Sebby, where have you BEEN?"

Sebastian shook the shinigami off softly without looking at him, "Is it not obvious where I have been?"

Grell huffed, "Well, as much as that is true...You should be more excited to be with your long-lost soul mate!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned to Grell, preferably to kick him out off of the grounds. Grell had not changed much either, he looked about the same aside from an altered version of Madame Red's jacket. This one had thick lace on the ends of the sleeves and the collar, the buttons were a fine black color with metallic sleek. He also had new boots which had a thinner, taller heel and were a mix of red and black. Aside from that, not much appeared to change.

"I have no interest in your pathetic cries of lust," Sebastian scoffed, "You may go,"

"I cannot," Grell whined matter-of-factly before placing on his hip and leaning against the apple tree. He plucked one of the apples down and nibbled on it cutely, "Don't you love these? They're made with a special ingredient to make them so red and white! Wanna guess?"

"No, and why can't you leave? If so, I shall make it so you WILL leave," Sebastian grimaced, "I am no mood to deal with your endeavors,"

"But Sebby!" Grell whined, "If I leave William will punish me for not collecting and recording and observing that little brat's soul!"

Sebastian hide back a shocked expression as he turned to the rose bushed to deal with it. This claim did strike his interest though, so he decided to humor the red-head for a moment or so, "Why would William assign you such a useless mission?"

"What? You don't KNOW?" Grell whined, "That little brat's gonna die!"

"And, by what means shall he die? If you have not noticed-" Grell held a finger to the demon's lips as he pushed him back against the ground and straddled his hips with his knees.

"Oh, you'll see! Then Sebby will be free of his curse and maybe give Grell some kissies! Ne, ne?" Grell leaned down to receive one but found himself knocked onto the ground, the demon pressing his foot into the back of his head.

"Do I have to beat you face in?" the demon groaned in annoyance.

"NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!" Grell's cries were muffled by the dirt.

* * *

Later than evening the young Phantomhive and his butler were in the theater's lounge. Ciel's eyes scanned over the crowd, spotting his middle-aged cousin with a look of almost sadness in her eyes.

"Do you wish to see her, bocchan?" Sebastian asked.

"No," he told his servant, "It would only upset her and thereby, annoy me,"

Over the years, Sebastian had noted how profound Ciel's coldness had started to become. Before, the child had hid away any sympathy with quick, brutally honest decisions. Honesty varied from mentality mentality, to some stories held more truth than the actual facts, and for other truth was of the heart and not of that the eyes or mind processed. Ciel's truth was emotional and cold, it was based on the need for vengeance as he as now living day to day as a demonic omen. This honesty was the very omen Sebastian envied, it had come from his own fruit that almost seemed to be from his loins. Ciel was the child of his selfishness and of his own needs, of which no longer mattered and not even to himself.

"So, is this her?" Ciel studied the poster of the young woman in the picture, "Deva Klammer, the Diva of Estonia...She looks no older than me,"

"Yes," Sebastian nodded, "From the information I accumulated over the day, she is renowned for her voice. It is supposedly that of a child prodigy, as is her beauty of course,"

Indeed, the adolescent in the picture was very beautiful. Her narrow nose and lips synced perfectly with soft, gently risen cheekbones and slightly tapered, round eyes. Thin eyebrows gave a sort of cat-like look to them, Sebastian secretly admired that aspect, and her forehead was somewhat higher than normal. Other than that, she was quite a beautiful child. From what he could see of her body, he assumed she was fourteen at the latest as she appeared to be blooming into womanhood against the thin form. However, as he stood there admiring the monochrome picture, he began to feel a sudden vibration of familiarity in him.

Deva's eyes were quite appealing in shape, it reminded him of his favored cat which had passed away many many years human years ago. Yet her iris and pupil disgusted him. It was not the color (since the poster was monochrome the color was indistinguishable) but the very presence of those eyes being part of her face.

"Shall we head in now, my lord?" Sebastian turned to his master, "The Opera begins in,"

He opened his pocket-watch, "Five minutes, we must get to our seats,"


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, for some odd reason...I keep imagining my OC Deva singing "Diva's song" from Blood+ for her first appearance. Thus, that shall be the song. :) Don't worry, I have my own Operatic areas for later on. :)

* * *

The audience grew silent as the curtains slowly opened, being pulled up into the top of the rafters as a bluish sort of light crept from beneath them. In this thin beam, it was bright and concentrated in and off itself. Slowly, the light grew duller and more complete as the whole of the set came about. It was a castle so to speak, very similar to one Sebastian had prepared for Hamlet when the prince confronted his ghostly father. Atop one of the towers the Diva of Estonia stood, elegant and quite lovely. No longer barred by the black and white texture of her posters, the demon and his master could see she had quite pale skin that seemed all too perfect (which grew the demon to grimace.) Her hair was very long and quite red; it presented atop of her head in a thick chignon with a sparkling tiara presented on the scalp. Her eyes though were blue, much like Ciel's, which grew the demon to start hating the very color. Her very presence had an unnatural aurora that tried to mimic the moon, and failed completely in integrity.

_Ahhhhhhhh__

Ciel sighed, "Sebastian, go get me a drink,"

"Yes my lord," the demon nodded, leaving his balcony seat. Deva's dramatic and melodic voice rung through the lounge and halls of the Opera house, the demon felt a very strange sense of familiarity fall upon him again. This particular voice was far too mature and far too practiced to belong to a fourteen year old. As he knew humans from the inside out, vocal training began at the early age of thirteen since the voice was a muscle and needed to be matured. There was no way a human could advance so deeply in her training within a year of it, or less even. This coloratura range and song (though quite beautiful and quite appealing to the ears) made him think back on Grell's words. Ever since setting foot in this Theater the demon hadn't calmed, there was a chime behind the Diva's eyes that spoke deceit.

_Cano tasay noni, cano nimono_

_Kamay sitodo! Lada_ nibonimoe_

A dark tone undertook the orchestra.

_Kahmen di sono soda nimo_

_Kamay, mayto no slido_

_Hisa day, astro, misa day niatoe!_

"Admiring my mistress' voice?" someone questioned the demon from behind

"It is lovely," Sebastian commented, stepping up the counter of the bar, "One milk tea, please,"

"Is that what your heart thinks, Sebastian Michaelis?" the person behind him asked. Sebastian turned to him.

"And I have not even asked your name," Sebastian smirked somewhat, "Jakob Bathory,"

_Ah-ah-ah-AHH!_

_Ahahahahahah-ahahahahahAhAh-ahahahahAhAhAhAHH!_

"There is no need for that, fellow demon," Jakob smirked. Sebastian recognized this demon, he was the one who had taken the soul of Elizabeth Bathory hundreds of years ago. Sebastian had originally wanted her soul, but found a more suiting soul for his taste. This particular demon had light, brunette hair and green eyes. His pale skin matched that of his mistress, he was even feminine looking in that sense. He appeared thinner than most demons and his waist was somewhat tinier so the proportion between his chest and hips was feminine as well. He was not quite tall either, he was perhaps an inch or two shorter than Sebastian himself, whose height was taller than the average human.

Nonetheless, they had shared a similar taste for those trying to avenge themselves. In that sense, vengeance to save ones honor tore honor from the pursuer. After their short meeting though they found no need to stay in contact. It was pleasant though to see a fellow demon who wasn't acting hostile toward him, an acquaintance in a sense, so he decided to converse with Jakob while he waited for the tea.

"I knew it," Sebastian smirked, "Is this the daughter of Bathory herself? You have quite a taste for vain blood,"

"Perhaps, in a sense, she is the child of my passion," Jakob smirked, "We've come here just to see you,"

"For what purpose?" Sebastian asked, "I have nothing to give to a fellow demon,"

"Are you so certain?" the brunette smirked somewhat, thin, feminine lips twisting a sense of adoration and devious completion.

* * *

"Here is your milk tea, my lord," Sebastian presented his master with his drink before sitting back down.

_Ah-ah-ah-Ah!_

_Ahahahahahah-ahahahahahAhAh-ahahahahAhAhAhAHH!_

_No! Tashbano ni to no nimono!_

_Valmay, sahanon nada!_

_AhahahahAhAH!_

_AhahahahAhAH!_

_AhahahahAhAH!_

Deva took a deep breathe at the momentary pause before raising her head, eyes wide.

_AhhahAhhhAhhhAhhh-!_

_AHHHHHHH!_

That was the last of the Diva's song as she fell over the tower. Jakob was quite to rush to her side and catch her. The crowd paused, not knowing whether to applaud or get help for the Diva. Jakob carried her back stage, the stage empty for a moment before he stepped back on, Deva gone from his arms.

"A demon," Ciel noted.

"Not an enemy though, he is an old friend, my lord. He may be useful to us," Sebastian told him, explaining to Ciel what the shinigami had told him in the garden as a furtive plot planted itself in his head. The seed of deceit and righteousness spreading vines throughout his mind, the roses rousing a hunger that knew this act pure in its depravity.

_"We've come to see you,"_

_"How courteous," Sebastian sighed, waiting for the tea, "But I am in no condition to host your fancy,"  
_

_"Even if I offer you your master's soul?" Jakob smirked, rubbing his long, feminine fingers along Sebastian's chin and lips somewhat, "Over forty years you've maintained your hunger, but you've lost all color in your amber eyes. Dear brother,"_

_He leaned up to whisper in Sebastian's ear, "You've grown dull and dead on the inside,"_

_Sebastian looked at him carefully, "How can you be of service?"_

"I am terribly sorry!" Jakob called from the stage, "My mistress' health is very poor from travel! Is there a doctor in here? Or anyone who will offer us refuge in their home until I can find a suitable physician?"

_"What do you ask of me?" Sebastian asked._

_"Your seed," the green eyed demon smirked, "That is what she wants,"  
_


	4. Chapter 4

This is perhaps the last update of the week...School...:( Oh well, I am graduating this year! I got scholarship offers for my singing! XD! Those 3 years of vocal training really helped! XD

* * *

Sebastian was not surprised at all when his young master allowed Deva and her butler, Jakob of the 'Bathory' bloodline, to stay at the Manor. It had been somewhat chilly that evening so the two demons lit the fireplaces and warmed the water in case Deva's health grew worse and she required a warm bath. As of the moment, Sebastian was heading to check on her and on her butler after setting his master to sleep. Jakob sat at Deva's bedside, the covers up to her chin, with his hand against her cheek somewhat. Sebastian set his candelabra on the dresser by the door and shut the door upon entering the room. Once that was done he walked over to them and studied this 'child' for a moment.

"How many years has it been?" Sebastian asked.

"Five," Jakob answered, "She can't wait any longer to purified,"

"Are you so certain that my master is the one she needs?" Sebastian inquired.

"We have searched through many archives of souls and cinematic records. In order to fulfill my contract," Jakob turned his gaze to the demon and smirked somewhat, "We must fulfill yours,"

Sebastian nodded, sitting down on the bed as well. At this angle, the adolescent reminded him of his young master before he had become a demon. How innocent and tempting he looked, how at peace he had been with his frailties and his evils. He also wanted to lick his lips, the spice of that tender life-force was indeed very arousing to him, but not in a sexual manner. Perhaps it was that intense, but it was nowhere near erotic fantasy. He had no reason to engage in such carnal acts unless it suited his own lust and taste. His master had long since forsaken him and had forsaken the demon's needs and rights.

"I must be going," Jakob sighed, standing and pulling his jacket on.

"For what purpose? This was not what we agreed," Sebastian told him sternly.

"To take care of some business...I do not know when I shall return, so take care of Deva for me. She is already in a fragile state as it is," Jakob made way to the door, "I've already set out her wardrobe in the closet and so forth on the vanities and dressers. I have written out her weekly schedule so if I do not return abruptly you shan't be lost. I will send a messenger boy in the morning if I cannot return later this evening. Good night,"

With that he left, leaving Sebastian with his mistress, and from what he deduced, his lover. This girl was a monster, he could smell the blood on her. She no longer had her own soul, it was buried down beneath fiber upon fiber, and cobweb upon cobweb, her covenant with Jakob required such tragedy. For that single reason though? To be beautiful? It truly made him shake his head. Beauty was not a thing of the face, a demon knew beauty from the soul. Deva would have been beautiful like his master once was, but both had lost their appeal to a demon's fangs and lust. It also sickened him to know he'd be dealing with not only his master but this adolescent as well in her vanity.

He could only hope what Jakob told him was a slim approximate.

* * *

At last morning came and Jakob had not, the demon assumed a messenger boy would come by later as London was a busy city. At the moment, the demon was preparing his master something to eat, as well as his guest who was still asleep. He prepared omelettes with vegetables and spices in the mix, crepes with the sweet, fresh jelly of strawberries twixt the wheat doe, and a sort of whole grain toast with several sorts of nuts and cranberries in the bread. Aside that, a few small dishes of chocolate pastries lay on a plate. For a beverage, he prepared milk tea with a pot of flat water as well (since he did not know what Deva preferred.) Once loading the lot of it onto the food cart he made toward his master's room.

"Good morning, bocchan," he opened the curtains. Ciel groaned and stretched as the light hit his eyes.

"Is that actress and her butler still here?" he asked.

"Yes, bocchan. Ms. Klammer isn't in the best of conditions," Sebastian nodded, setting out from clothes from the wardrobe.

"What is today's schedule?" Ciel asked, holding his arms out to let Sebastian dress him.

"Nothing is planned, the day is yours," Sebastian answered, pulling his master's shirt over his small form.

"I mean the Diva's," Ciel asked, "It's obvious her butler is not here."

"What makes you say that, bocchan?" Sebastian asked, buttoning the little demon's shirt up.

"The fact that you have prepared two breakfasts," Ciel sighed, "Where has he gone?"

"That I am not too clear on, but I deduced he went to seek a doctor for his mistress," Sebastian lied partially-it was not a complete lie, "It seems there are only so few educated to treat her ailment,"

"And what is that condition?" Ciel asked, raising his chin so the demon could tie his tie around his neck.

"They believe it's a sort of anemia," Sebastian answered simply.

* * *

After preparing Ciel for the day, the demon butler entered Deva's room to ready her for the day. Surprisingly, she did not stir when the demon opened the curtains. Thus, after tying the curtains in such a position where they would remain open, he went over to shake her away gently. She did not stir. She wasn't dead, as she was not ice cold to the touch, so he assumed she was much weaker than previously realized.

"Ms. Klammer," he leaned down to her ear, "Wake up,"

She did not stir. With a sigh, the demon pulled away and took her face in his hands. He lifted her eyelids and found she was still quite asleep as her elegant eyelids revealed only the majority white of her eyes. He pondered for a moment just where to find the seal on her body. A demon's seal was the very insignia of their power, if such a symbol was lost a claim was lost. That was the reason Claude had gotten a hold of Ciel's soul, so the demon was all too curious to know where Jakob's seal was on his lover's body. It would also give him a bit of how powerful Jakob had become since their last encounter in the 17th century. Some seals could change over time to represent a more powerful being, or even be more in tune with the soul of the demon and relinquish it any physical manifestation. If that were the case, than Deva's mark would still be bound by flesh.

He pulled the covers down to reveal the whole of her thin form bound by her nightgown of silk and linen. He examined her feet and then most of her legs, no mark was found. No seal laid against the pale flesh of her arms of the softness of her abdomen and bosom. Not even her neck bore a mark, nor her back or her scalp. With a sigh, the demon laid her back down to look her over. There was certainly something Jakob was keeping from him, and his senses were all too blurred from hunger and the strange aurora Deva's soul was giving off, it was quite distasteful to him (though he would never verbalize his disgust as she was a guest and could be useful to him.) The brunette demon had done quite beautifully, he admitted though.

He had stuck to his word to make Deva beautiful in any manner she desired. Her skin was a beautiful ashen white and untouched by unwanted hair or blemishes, it was smooth and soft like silk, the flesh felt so toned and flexible (appearing more-so even.) Her hair was a gentle jumble of waves and curls which were quite soft to the touch; reflecting the sun almost like red fire or a ruby with the rays of golden light shining through it. Her complexion was astonishingly clear and the skin was angled perfectly around her bones. Indeed, she was very beautiful and in every way a man would desire such a young woman whose breasts had hardly even risen yet. He shook his head, almost feeling pity. This flesh was the flesh of a blood countess, much like her butler's namesake. It was truly tragic, and he almost felt that he had done this to his own master in a way. The contract had been _too_ perfect to be imperfect, and that was the very error in it.

"Hmmm," the guest cooed, staring to stir.

"Morning Ms. Klammer," Sebastian smiled politely, "I will be serving you today,"

She blinked once or twice, her blue eyes glazed with fatigue and almost innocence, "Where is my butler?"


	5. Chapter 5

Making an Alois jacket...Check it out on DevArt under "TheStalkerNextDoor"

ALSO, a dominatrix Grell! I made the dominatrix part! The rest was ordered!

* * *

"Where is my butler?" Deva asked, stretching before placing her legs over the side of the bed.

"He is not here, as of the moment," Sebastian nodded, "I will be serving you today,"

"You?" Deva furrowed her brow curiously before smiling softly, "Thank you...I am truly sorry if I caused you any inconvenience. Are you the one Jakob told me about? The one whose master will fix me?"

Sebastian paused, very tempted to furrow his own brow. This girl was nothing like the scent of her soul had given away, and now an absolutely diverse being was giving off the scent of cinnamon and mint. They were pleasant aromas, but it stung his nose. Perhaps he would enjoy her company more than he assumed, as he was rather bored of his master's presence.

"I believe that is what he told you. However, my part is not yet clear," the demon nodded.

Deva reached up and cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone, "He didn't tell me how beautiful you are,"

Indeed, she admired the beauty of this man. His skin was taut and sculpted to phase over the hollows of his face, which added just the right depth of shadow for a smooth, darkened look. His ebony locks fell softly against his face, feathery and well-placed in his hair, the ends fanned out against the light without changing the depth of the ebony shade, only accentuated the darkness standing in the light. It was a masterpiece, truly, his skin and his hair-all too perfected by his eyes and brows. They were round and perfectly tapered, the brow ever so in place with the strays hairs unseen and the ends (though lacking arches) were snipped at a sharp angle for perfect slits to a perfect face. He was angel in the guise of a demon, for certain. He was chiseled as stone and perfected by his contract, the age in his eyes held no binds against his pale beauty. His chiseled chin had no sagging skin, his eyes held no crescents despite his mortal fatigue...He was far too full of energy, energy his seal bound away. For even the paramour of beauty, who died by the name of Juliet, would envy his beauty.

It was if he was a glass bottle drifting in the ocean, holding the secret to a tragic accident that led to his writer's hand becoming cold and stiff in the position that cast the last thoughts of his life. He glistened in perfection, in the confession of his sins yet lacked the gratitude to have survived...She envied it, she desired that beauty for herself...For the sea rode upon his porcelain face to keep the polish aglow with a silvery sheen and the groves in tact and freshly etched into the soft flesh of his face like a fetus to its mother being nourished and perfected every moment in the pulsating womb. The salt that kept his skin so perfect was amiss to her, but she did not mind as she that beauty would be her own by the miscarriage of his burdened seal.

"Is there anything you need?" Sebastian pulled her from her reverie.

"Where is the washroom?" Deva asked, "I need to freshen up before I eat breakfast,"

"There is one across the hall," Sebastian pointed to the door, "Shall I escort you?"

"No," Deva stood and smiled sweetly one again, "It's alright, you can take a few minutes to rest your head before I come back,"

"As you wish," the demon nodded.

* * *

Once the Diva had finished freshening up (and anointed her skin with a lovely perfume,) she asked the demon to help her dress as she could not tie the ribbons in the back or handle the built in corsets. Sebastian did not realize it before but as Deva unpacked more of her luggage he realized she owned many mirrors set in frames and handles of silver and other fine metals with swirling designs of birds and flowers molded into their shape. One mirror was strange, it unfolded into three separate mirrors and was surprising larger than the bag made it appear. The back of it was lined with velvet as its edges were a tad sharp and she set it up before the vanity Jakob had prepared with her jewelry and cosmetics in soapstone boxes.

"Will this dress suit you, Ms. Klammer?" Sebastian asked, taking a red dress laden with ribbons and frills down the bodice and skirt with laces trimming the sleeves in black, thin layers. Deva looked at it, examined it with her eyes and then looked through her make-up and many boxes of accessories.

"Are my red heels in the closet?" she asked, Sebastian nodded and removed the shoes the closet, "The ones with silver buttons?"

"They will suffice then," she nodded to him, "Please help me dress into it,"

The demon nodded once again (as he felt a verbal response wasn't needed) before helping his new guest into her dress. She didn't wear much of an under-dress beneath the already dainty yet elegant dress, so that saved him a minute or so and he could tend to tying the corseted bodice. He personally hated corsets, as woman of pure nature didn't need one. If anything, his guest's scent was far too misleading, it was merely a human in the guise of a vampire (as he out in his head.) It was horrible stench that reminded him of Elizabeth Bathory, she would have been a delicious meal. According to one person, what one person thought was right and just was not for another. This aspect applied to the blood countess, she had grown up to be a loving mother and wife, yet devious was that nature to a parallel of wicked proportions. When her beauty went its toll, and her cruelty spawned brown lilies, she turned to red orchids to pollinate her skin with fertility and velveteen divinity. She was indeed a goddess, her beauty was the greatest cruelty of all.

It was natural for humans to age and die, but it wasn't uncommon for youth to die in its prime. He suspected that this stench Deva's soul gave off was the very pith of that nature. She was the youth of a relic frozen in time, being dusted and tended to in order to stay shining and valuable...Just as Jakob's last meal had been...As his own meal would have been...Ciel's soul was beautiful and pure, yet spoiled with blood and debauched flesh-its taste the very forbidden fruit that spawned his kind the beginning of life when time had no meaning. It was now entwined with the hunger and depravities of his own kind. Humanity was so blessed with original purity, with the ability to feel regret and experience metonia...His master held neither-at least he did not know if he would have because he died to demon-hood before he could taste such a spice.

"Thank you," Deva smiled softly at him as he patted her dress down a bit, examining how it wrapped around her still budding form, "You may leave now, I can do the rest,"

"As you wish," he left the cart in the room, "Do enjoy your breakfast, Ms. Klammer,"

"Deva," the Diva smiled.

"Deva?" Sebastian inquired accordingly to a butler's demeanor, "You wish for me to call you by your first name?"

"Yes, that's right," Deva smiled, "Won't you, sir?"

"You have no need to call me 'sir,' I am below you...Deva," the demon pointed out.

"But I must show respect for the man who will give me what I desire most in the world," she rubbed her belly softly, "The beauty and entirety of youth,"


	6. Chapter 6

Man, I haven't updated in a while (well, by my standards when I have an idea going on pretty far.)

ENJOY!

* * *

The day's schedule mainly revolved Deva and Ciel. The two ate breakfast in their own rooms, the female of which ate less than the Earl. She nibbled for the most part, barely eating half of each dish she had been served and ate only a morsel of the chocolate pastries Sebastian had prepared. After breakfast, Deva enjoyed a walk around the manner grounds. The beauty of the garden would make any man awe, before it had been grown wild and seemed like a battlefield of flowers and berries overgrowing one another. No longer were the beautiful paths of cobblestone and gentle dirt riddled with thick stems and thorns. Sebastian was indeed the one she wanted, his hands were so beautiful and full of grace (ironic his true form.) His cruelty was that of a feather falling from the earth with acid rain, he was all too gentle and all too sinister. He was perfect and fascinating to all those around him, an icon of indulgence and perfection.

His lips were thin and captivating, his tongue able to pull anything between them with the best of ease and craft lacking any wisp of blood or scarring from the struggle. His motions and gestures were silent and perfectly balanced with a divine poise not even a ballet dancer could pray to possess. The vigor of his muscles seemed nonexistent as every step of labor held relaxation and a nonchalant effect, these traits were very much desired by not only her but any person wanting to be of such statuesque idealism.

"You've done quite a fine job," Deva smiled to herself as she rubbed the bark of a blossom tree in the garden. As Autumn was arriving, the blossoms started to decay and fall off the trees in small dots of pink and even lighter. They were beautiful in that decay, knowing innately they'd be born again. For the following while she rubbed the petals between her fingers, admiring every flower for its beauty as it was soon doomed to die by the world's icy hands. Between the brown, serrated circles and lines the soft skin of the plant bore juice and water, it was tempting treat.

Sebastian watched from his own place in the garden (as he was trimming some bushes he hadn't been able to get to yesterday due to his master) as Deva became to nibble on the rose petals. She inhaled their decaying scent, aroused sensually by the sugary aroma that stung her nostrils. They were a part of her, they were her children, they were the undying carnation of her own covenant so thus she could not swallow them whole. The demon admired Jakob's work, not merely for Deva's sake, but for his own. Jakob was very devoted, he could tell and see his work shine through Deva's pale form as her pallor became almost like white in the sunlight and her hair like pink feathers at the edges were the sun broke through.

He had been attached to Ciel since the beginning- at least up to the brat's loss of mortality. His soul had been a profound mix beneath the superficial, needing facade. Behind that facade was a boy who needed to avenge those he loved, needing to honor those he had let down, and needed to gain his own dignity back by the means of a goat's blood. His slender vessel surely bore a juicy, spicy twist and it was a soul all to thickly similar to a pomegranate. The soul was of the dead, a soul aged so much since birth and with the seed pods since then were begging to fill with minerals and nutrition to be the main dish of a most delectable feast. The gestation was too much though for the body to bear, and other beings of the flesh crowded to nibble on the stillbirth born to celestial beings. Everyone wanted his creation, Ciel was almost his child-his stillbirth. There were times he'd consider Ciel's mortality as more of a liability, his soul was of too high descent to be mortal. It was tied against a pillar and though he could tied down, no one could touch him due to his divinity.

"Excuse me," Deva smiled, approaching him in his dozed state.

"Yes Deva?" Sebastian nodded, setting the clippers down.

"Do you have a music room," she blinked softly to show off her curly eyelashes, "I need to practice voice,"

"Why yes, of course," Sebastian nodded, looking down at his pocket-watch, "In fact, it is almost time for bocchan's violin lesson. I am certain he wouldn't mind if you joined us, the Diva of Estonia. It would be an honor,"

"Of course it would," Deva giggled (hiding her arrogance,) "I am of the most beautiful on this earth, in every way, shape, and form,"

* * *

"We'll begin with a warm-up," Sebastian told her, pushing his glasses up, as he began to play to the piano. Deva held her voice quite strongly, keeping everything soft and gentle at the beginning before they proceeded to longer, more powerful exercises regarding flexibility and all of the notes in their range on their exact pitch. Once that was done (which took less time than the demon predicted) he turned to his master.

"Bocchan, shall we play "The Laughing Song" so the Diva may practice with us?" Sebastian suggested.

"Fine, fine," Ciel nodded, positioning his violin bow over the metallic strings.

"One, two, and three," the music began to play, introducing the vocalist through the beautiful streams of music led by the piano and the violin. The music swam into the air like a swimming fleet of attached staccatos and a backdrop of middle-placed legatos. Deva smiled, swaying back and forth somewhat against the instruments' ministrations.

_Oh I do declare_

_That a man so rare_

_Should warily choose his friends_

_For a fine disguise,_

_May enchant the eyes_

_While serving deceitful ends!_


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the long wait...Anyhow, auditioning for America's Got Talent...WISH ME LUCK!

* * *

Nowadays, it was a rare moment Sebastian found himself at complete ease. With his master constantly adjusting the leash around his neck he was quite tense and had somewhat of a headache. As a demon, such disorders and ailments did little to affect him when he himself was healthy. However, for the past forty years he had received the approximation of a human headache. Often times he found himself, in his monotonous routine, growing dizzy momentarily from both aggravation and hunger. He would not need to hold onto anything to retain his poise and balance, but he had often closed his eyes to let the moment pass. At this precise moment though, that was not the case, as the Manor grounds seemed abnormally quiet except for the Diva's rehearsal with herself some hundred feet away inside the mansion. The backdrop of the soft, solemn aria aided in the moment as he petted the kitten's ears.

It had been quite a while since he had seen a kitten and was thus very happy to see one. This particular feline had big blue eyes and a pleasant soft, gray fur. He petted the kitten's back gently, scratching in the middle of its spine as to make it purr happily. He sighed in eerie content, it was a most appealing noise.

"Sebastian!" Ciel called from only a few feet away. Sighing, Sebastian set the kitten down and stood to face his master after softly batting the fur off of his clothes.

"Yes, my lord?" Sebastian asked. The phrase used to reek of undying devotion to the most depraved demands that had once been so holy. This had been his mantra, his 'amen.' The very words "yes, my lord" were full of exuberance and silhouettes of Ciel's shallow coldness, and Sebastian's readiness to complete it with pins and needles. The meaning had changed despite the way he spoke it remained the same, the phrase was an obligation, a signature of his servility, and the very phrase that had his own needs barred from speech and mind.

"This," Ciel roughly placed a letter in his hand, "Was at the door. A messenger boy was there and why didn't you answer, Sebastian?"

He gave him a cold glare.

"I was preoccupied, my lord," Sebastian told him plain and clear.

"With what?" Ciel rolled his eyes, "The garden? It's done already. Stop playing with that kitten and get back to work,"

"Yes," Sebastian nodded, "My lord, just let me see what significance this letter has,"

Once again, the young Earl rolled his eyes and walked away to tend to whatever he wished to in his study. Sebastian remained where he stood, opening the envelop and gently sliding out the delicate piece of parchment within.

_Greetings, brother,_

_Together we were wrought by the ashes of the damned and took form by the sway of the flames. Brothers of fire and vengeance we are, to offend and debauch the mortals by the name of Lilitu, our mother, with a passion. _

Sebastian sighed somewhat, unsure of why exactly Jakob had to sound so formal when he wrote to a fellow demon. Sighing, he inferred that was speaking in a sort of 'tongues' as to confuse Ciel if he ever got a hold of this letter.

_Now our loyalty is tested by the very same flame that drives our own needs. It seems recovering what I need shall be harder than I had recently anticipated, thus, with an agitated heart on my own behalf and an imploring one I yours, I bid you take good care of my mistress. She is quite ill...After all, this shall be a perfect time for you to complete your side of the bargain. Do not think I am trying to leave my beloved Deva with you and cease to be with her, I know very well if I did or if you were under the suspicion that I was harboring such treachery, you would surely sentence her lovely face to beckon death's masque. Thus, I tell you now this covenant we made is true within our boundaries, and you shall receive your reward to its highest peak of divinity. _

_I shall inform Deva's employers that she will not be traveling for the while I am gone, and that she is ailing, so you shan't worry about her career's schedule.  
_

_With love,_

_Jakob Bathory_

_

* * *

_After po_c_keting the letter and completing his afternoon_ chores,_ the demon found himself completing another task his master had given him. It seemed they were low on a few groceries and after supplying Sebastian with the necessary amount of money, the demon butler strolled toward town. He could see that these 'automobiles' were much faster than he could go at a human pace, but he was not in the mood to deal with another industrial lecture on how the newest machines ran. He personally found it rather obnoxious how humans thought they could surpass nature and GOD. Though a creature of the darkness he was born and quite fond of human arrogance as it was amusing to tear them down, he found any work of a human's hands to be vulnerable to death and ultimately extinction. It was for that reason he'd chosen Ciel's soul the moment he was summoned, despite his arrogance his master's soul was innately divine and he shed more than enough blood to suck the elixir up. Humans wanted to think they were honest in their new revolutions, and for some it was true, but not always. The industrial domination would push humanity further down the line of arrogance, just as the soul's mechanics had done to his bocchan before and after demonhood.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Butler," an all too strange voiced addressed from behind him. It was the mortician, quite a fond man, with his usual grin on his face. The demon had no coil with him and so decided, since he was free of his master at the moment, to converse with the retired shinigami while he strolled through the market.

"Good day," Sebastian nodded.

"And what would you be doing?" Undertaker chuckled.

"That is quite obvious," Sebastian shrugged.

"I am quite surprised, Mr. Butler," the funeral director sighed, "You're quite melancholy, and I thought such a scent would make you smile,"


	8. Chapter 8

THEY SENT ME TO THE EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS! XD~! I MIGHT GET ON! Won't know 'til March though...

* * *

"It is a smell only the ancient know, where the dead was glorified with linen and anointed with honey. The smell of such nectar on rotting flesh, it is a sweet aroma, but it does little to appease the senses," Sebastian shrugged, "It is a scent that deifies oneself, that deifies death and decay as if it were a god. When a man tries to transcend himself there is only pride and thus, no pride when death falls upon them,"

Undertaker chuckled, covering his cackling smile behind his long sleeve, "Yes, yes it is!"

"Is there any particular reason you are speaking with me?" the demon inquired, "I have no need of you, and vice versa, there is no reason for us to be conversing as such,"

"Ah, but you bear the Diva in your home. Is that not an interesting topic to discuss?" the mortician smirked somewhat. Sebastian looked at him somewhat incredulously, he had never shown much interest in anything of popular opinion. As much as Sebastian knew of the Diva, he was between opinions of like and dislike, and edging toward the middle in his disgusting intrigue of her. Henceforth, seeing and hearing the shinigami's words intrigued him as well. It was quite obvious there was more going on here.

"And what do YOU know of this Diva?" Sebastian asked.

"I know she is dead," the shinigami chuckled, "The perfection of the dead...It is a shame she is not in a coffin! I have been having such a slow day, and how it is sad to see no one transcend the horizon upon cries of sorrow and denials!"

The demon looked at him carefully, "So, she is a corpse,"

"She is over seventy-one years old," the mortician added, "Do bring me her body when she finally succumbs to that suitor. Death is not but a veil nor a masque, but the very flesh the material hides,"

"Life is a tale told by an idiot," Sebastian nodded to him, "Those who pride on themselves pride on death. I speak truth but only truths of my own privy, such as Macbeth and the Weird Sisters, and he kissed the cold stone ground when his crowned head succeeded in prophecy. I am of the dark, but truth is but a shadow of one's own mentality,"

"And so the comedy begins!" the mortician fell to the ground in laughter, simply unable to resist the tender humor of the tragedy.

* * *

"You're late," Ciel scoffed as the demon set out his dinner on the dining table. The room was especially bright considering the sun was setting rather early this time of the year. The white of linen table clothe reflected the golden candle-light perfectly without a speck of color, and the glisten of the porcelain and silverware was sleek and glossy. Truly, the room was perfect, the chandeliers clung to the candles without a speck of loose dust or wax, the fireplace roared gently in the background as to warm the room. It was toasty, and the color of the walls (which had been scrubbed to perfection by the demon butler) gave a fair air to the room in said warmth. Something was missing however. As used to the Earl was eating alone at the table, their guest was missing.

"What an insolent girl," he scoffed, cutting his well-done and spiced venison up before taking a bite, "See where that wretched child is. When did her butler say he'd come and get her? Was he not the one who sent you that letter?"

"I'm afraid his trip was extended by a detour. I am not certain when he shall be back, bocchan," Sebastian told him, the same solemn look on his face, "I will go fetch Deva if that is your wish,"

The Earl eyed him suspiciously. Sebastian always announced a guest formally, why on earth was he using that girl's average name? No title, no indication of her marital status or social status?

"Why do you not announce her as _Ms. Klammer _or the _Diva of Estonia_?" Ciel questioned, "Has something happened, Sebastian? For purpose has my butler, of any butler, lost his manners?"

"Do forgive me, my lord," the demon nodded politely, "Our guest, Deva, demanded I call her by her name and only her name,"

"You realize the way you say it signifies intimacy?" Ciel furrowed his brow in his bit of anger, "Are you...Interested in this girl?"

"No, my lord," the demon vowed, "Deva...Pardon me, Ms. Klammer, the Diva of Estonia, is merely a guest and I was merely following what she asked of me. I am one hell of a butler after all, what kind of butler would I be if I did not abide by your guest's orders, bocchan?"

The demon Earl scoffed with a 'tsk' before returning to his meal, "Go get her, and call her by her titles or status. I shall never hear another person's name so intimate on your lips, that is an order, Sebastian Michaelis,"

* * *

By the time Sebastian found the Diva of Estonia she had begun to run from him. With a sigh, he followed her by the click of her heeled boots, she was outside by the back entrance when she had finally stopped. The stone stairs were chilled from the autumn night and reflected the moonlight beautifully against their pallor, almost making the ground glow like a winter-iced lake. The trees reflected a spectrum similar to that of a king's received tribute; gold and red with mixing auroras about their air. It was a lovely sight, a sight he had once beheld in his master; the workings of humanity in that radiant soul of darkness and of light. The twilight had gone, leaving nothing below or over the moon and the tide that slowly washed away the sand-the ocean had ceased producing its creatures for more carnal desires.

Deva was there as well, he noted after taking in the lovely sight of the moonlight earth, at the last step. She stared up at the sky, awed by the stairs as she turned to face him. If anything, the demon could've mistaken her for a creature of ancient myth, the childish game of running away and luring the demon to her desired place...The way her dress had fluttered after her as if a pair of ragged wings. He hated her for that, hated her for making him want what Jakob had-freedom and a full stomach.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked he approached her, "The moon, how it waxes and wanes against the sea. Water has sculpted the earth down and yet despite the salt of the sea it is beautiful. Once again, nature has dominated man-beauty knows not man but man knows beauty by the art of superficial craft. Tell me, demon, is my face a superficial craft? Surely one of perfection, of divine and yet unholy streams, can speak the truth."

"The truth is but a fact of one's own mentality. The truth I speak is truth to few and questionable by many," Sebastian answered, "I grant a lust's whim, a desire's dream, and feed one's pride. But any truth given is a private thing between my master and myself,"

"Surely Sebastian," she turned to him, placing her hand on his chest as she stared up at him. He gave no expression except that of his usual solemn look, the glow of her eyes shining into his-why did she feel the need to look at him in the eyes? She was flaunting her perfection-perfection the demon had given Ciel...And perfection her own lover gave her body and flesh.

"You have digested the moon, you have digested yourself. You carve perfection not from your hands but whim others to do so, you are perfect to have the world at your feet," Deva complimented, "You have digested your heart and it beams from your perfect flesh, your perfect skin and perfect face, your perfection is going to mine-we shall be one as you shall be with your master. Is this a truth I speak?"

"A truth unspoken for cannot be brought to fruition until the blade that reaps it has been unsheathed," Sebastian told her, stepping back, "It is time for dinner, Ms. Klammer,"

"However the ocean may divide us, the bitter salt whether crystal or incarnadine, shall never keep us from one another. Whether Neptune or Pluto we reside, you shall have the life of Kronos and I shall be your practical wisdom...But who shall swallow whom first!" Deva proclaimed as he started to lead her off to the dining room.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry this took so long...I had SUCH a busy month with the new semester coming up and such, and plus a hectic work schedule along with extracurricular activites~! Anyhow, it's calmed a bit since I finished my work week and have today off before starting the new one. Just relaxed to some Earl Grey black tea, and it IS black. I dind't add anything to it so it's natural, bitter taste is there. NOM NOM! XD

* * *

Jakob, compared to Sebastian, was a relatively young demon. Despite how he spoke of their birth and mutual mother, that did not change the fact that the feminine appearing demon was over one thousand years younger than Sebastian. Normally, it would take a demon a few thousand years (in their infancy) to develop their own essences and abilities thoroughly. Thus, for his young age, Jakob's hindrance was no shock to him and certainly not to Sebastian. Finding the Island of Death and others he needed would be a challenge, for his body was not yet completely mature and neither was his whole essence or sense of things. However, he knew that, despite how youth could make the reality turn and twist into surreality like a rose vine too cluttered with the blossoms to hide the thorns, he loved his mistress.

It was not unusual for a demon to love, contrast to popular belief and thus a fallacy from the beginning of Christ's spilt blood. However, there was some truth and contradictions to said adoration. A demon could feel love but only for two reasons, one of which, the physical rush, was most common and lastly, the need to be whole. A demon lusted often; for a soul, for flesh, for possession of another mortal mind. Now, there were many forms these could be expressed, but as for the moment, the basic three were all he could think of as he thought more of mistress in the raven's nest.

The lust for a soul was a necessity, souls provided a demon with solace and also the vitality that came with its rejuvenating aspects. A demon never truly aged on the outside once its body and mind was completely matured. The inner of a demon could suffer though without proper nourishment; demons needed souls just as much as humans needed their blood. It was their life, their only necessity that would make them beautiful and ageless for all eternity; coming of course to stimulate and preserve their psyche. There was more to it though, a demon (in very deep cases) would be become so engrossed with the soul the intensity of his or her devotion to said soul could be described as sexual. Parting with such a delicacy was the end for that demon, and the end of the contract it would pursue next. A demon could not live on in pride knowing he or she had lost such an appealing dish...Sebastian knew that deeply. To become one with that vessel but for a moment, the twinning heartbeat and hastening pulse was that of intercourse...But in such case it was like making love involving no sex, the intimacy was too deep and beyond a carnal representation of passion and love.

Following the line of luxuries was sex, which was important to a demon. Demons enjoyed sex, as it was made from GOD and having virginity given to them signified the depravity of humanity. In many cases, it was consensual. A demon's charm and sensual physique left so much to the imagination, it made a human tingle in every way they could; fear, desire, intrigue...It would end most of the time with the consummation of said attraction to sin. And so the person's soul belonged to Lucifier's hand, where desire and greed took them and ruined them for love and even for sex if the demon decided to leave a little hex on their devirginized flesh.

Possession could be described as the most intimate form of devirginization. The demon not only penetrated the flesh but the soul; the fibers of their fiery soul trapped in winter blended with the seasons of the human's spirit and delved in deep. It was their passion to penetrate the soul and rebirth it; to destroy and recreate. They were one, and soon, the demon would take over the body until an exorcism could break him. It was for that reason he had met his lover.

She was a middle-aged woman in Hungry at the time of Elizabeth Bathory, who had lost her daughter to the Blood Countess' lust for youth. He was intrigued by her lack of tears, as he caught her at her daughter's grave with no tears. She looked upon the gravestone in envy, of being unable to be forever young and beautiful. Her red hair was beginning to gray, her delicate white skin was wrinkling and beginning to sag, and her thin body now gaining what hormones had used to preserve her youth and beauty. She prayed to be invincible just as Elizabeth had been, she wanted the youthful blood to bath in, to drink, and take in the life of these young girls. He knew her soul could do it, she could do it over and over again for the flesh and still die. He wanted her soul, but upon taking such a vain and sympathetic soul (she had wept for the Countess' scourge and troubles) he ceased. Half-digested, he pulled the soul back in and joined her. In her soul he saw a great many beautiful horrors.

Such could not be described; he heard her youthful vocals die to old age, her beauty die to death...The circumvention of her own denial. And so, he dug up the corpse of her daughter and placed the decrepit soul in her new body. But after so many years, so many tries to purify her and modify her body...It was his own guilt, despite the lack he felt, she suffered. Now, after many unfaithful forages, he had found what she needed to make her completely his and was not going to lose it.

* * *

Lust...How long had Sebastian been unable to indulge in the tight heat of passion? To a lover's embrace and the lack of deep meaning? It was a superficial thought, but having never had sex for so long, he had forgotten any hypocrisy in it. It was in his bed he found himself deep in this thought...The intensity of a virgin's will to give such intimacy a pale and hollow masquerade and for innocence to die at will...A demon lavished in that much more than any physical pleasure (despite how great it might be.) Gladly he would've continued to reminisce when a sudden sound filled his ears. It wasn't particularly loud, rather soft. It wasn't coming from a close area, which was good. His room was some way below his masters and he could hear the demonic child soundly sleep. He assumed it must've been Ms. Klammer searching for something or perhaps taking a walk (as humans could suffer insomnia more often than demons.)

He turned his attention to the clock but a moment, finding it to be just past midnight, and decided to retrieve Ms. Klammer and take her back to bed so she would not wake the young lord. As of the moment, he considered his attire somewhat unprofessional as he was lacking his jacket and vest, as well as his gloves. The manor was warm though, and he decided since his master was asleep and their guest seemed not to care about his professionalism, that he could proceed without them on. He lit a candelabra to lead his way (as his eyes were rather tired) and made toward the library where the soul was resonating. He found the Diva there, reading a book on the silk divan with a thin blanket over her form.

"Ms. Klammer," he touched her shoulder softly, "It is past midnight and you are not asleep. If you are suffering insomnia I can prepare some warm milk to better your effort toward sleep,"

"It is not sleep I need," she told him, standing and placing the book back on the shelf. Of course she had done this wrong so once she had walked aside Sebastian stepped in to see arrange it according to his master's preference.

"I need what I want," she told him. The demon turned to her, finding that she had shed the blanket and placed a short slip over her body, and it seemed to be the only thing covering her as it was translucent and exposed the areas left to her privy, "I need your seed, I want it...Give it to me,"

Sebastian made to speak when she suddenly pushed him down onto the divan. He had been shocked for a moment at her sudden strength, before laying still. It was not so much he was frightened, but his convenant with Jakob.

_Your seed, that's all she desires..._

Despite this lack of pride, he would allow Deva to take his seed and also his identity...For the sake of his own starving body that had been carved from obsidian in the purest soul.

"Give me your body," she climbed onto him, "Your youth...Your beauty..."

Her hands were on his shirt and he continued to stare up a the ceiling as the fabric gave.


	10. Chapter 10

The demon sighed with heavy sweat and almost struggle in his voice, his hands clamped down deep into Ms. Klammer's thighs as her nails almost broke through the chiseled flesh and bone of his chest and ribcage. The tight embrace and constant trembling, the movement...The demon's legs were spread like hers in his attempt to reach fruition, her embrace straining his length deeper. Atop him, the Diva spared no tantalization and kept at a pace that would grant no pain, but ambition. Up...down...breathe...clench...moan...sweat...The repetition mixed itself in sync with opposing sounds and movements; desires mixed into one crucible as the fire increased. They were choking on their tongue, begging for silence that the young master would not wake, before Diva's endeavors for the demon's ejaculation had been fulfilled...And within the next moment the demon released a mutual groan, panting softly as the momentary ecstasy passed through a hazy evermore.

The Diva touched his cheek, "Even in the moment of passion your skin holds no red...I want it,"

* * *

The demon had set himself to bed around two a.m, after cleaning up the mess in the library, feeling rather refreshed. Sex was an incentive for demons as much as it was to humans; it relieved the stress in his chest and he felt he could enjoy a natural slumber before his master awoke. He opened the curtains so the sunlight would hit his eyes with the sun's rising, and made the bed before sliding in. He would've gladly fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, when a sudden cry filled the air. It was not the Diva, as she was now in her own bed (and fully dressed) but a cry similar to that of the ecstasy Ms. Klammer had granted him. He sat up abruptly as the red shinigami burst through his window.

"Ah~!" Grell cried, pouting as he slid on the floor and bumped his head harshly on one of the bed's legs, "I missed it! I missed seeing you in your moment of fruition! Damn William, calling me away from that moonlit erotica!"

He stood, resting his arms on the demon's bed and his head on his folded arms, "Or perhaps I've just arrived to witness a second coming?"

The demon sighed, rubbing his temple, "What right have you to rush in here when I am trying to sleep? It is not wise to wake a sleeping demon,"

"But Sebby wasn't sleeping!" Grell whined, hugging his leg, "At least not yet~!"

The demon grimaced and promptly kicked the shinigami off with his free leg, thrusting him halfway across the room and skid onto the floor (which tore his jacket and some threads of hair from his head.)

"Aw~AH~!" Grell cried, grabbing his head as he sat up, "Why so rough? You weren't this rough with that prissy little hag,"

"First off," Sebastian stood after folding the covers besides him, "When have I never been rough with you?"

"Ahh!" Grell raged, standing with his fists balled, "So mean!"

"Secondly, Ms. Klammer did not break through my window, which I will now have to spend the night repairing," Sebastian glared at the shinigami, "I would much appreciate it if you left,"

"Ne, I am staying," Grell asserted, "As much as I hate William, he's given me such a wonderful assignment to be near you!"

Sebastian was silent for a moment, vaguely interested (as he was thinking lucidly for the first time in years) in Grell's words, "For what purpose does he need you here?"

"Didn't you listen the other day?" Grell pouted playfully, "Ciel's soul is at the edge of my chainsaw! Just one rev and I shall tear it away like the color from a leaf~! Ah!"

He took a dramatic pose for a moment before materializing Ciel's Magic Play in his hand and skimming the pages, "The boring part is staying here and observing it...Grr! A lady can't camp out for so long! She needs fun in the sun and time to pamper herself~!"

Sebastian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "If you must stay here do leave this room and do not let my master know you are here,"

He started, "Now leave so I may clean up this mess you've made and so I can enjoy the rest of my evening,"

"Oh, can't I enjoy it with you?" Grell cooed, nuzzling his knees as he crawled over the demon. With a sigh, the demon picked the shinigami up and tossed him through the second window in his room, hoping the glass connecting with his face would convey the message the shinigami seemed to never get.

"Ah!" Grell cried, the force of the throw lodging him in a tree, "Be gentle Sebas-chan!"

The demon rolled his eyes and turned to clean up the mess.

* * *

After cleaning up the mess the shinigami made (with his face, which humored the demon's sick taste in laughter) Sebastian found it relatively difficult to fall asleep from that moment on. Despite Grell was annoying flamboyant and seemed to consume too much sugar (which was most likely the reason for his hyper-activity in the areas of passion and violent ballet) his words somehow lodged themselves in the space between the demon's brain and eyeballs. He could almost see that it was a possibility, but his brain considered that the shinigami was simply being mislead by his leader (since many vital reapings seemed to be...misplaced by his excessive excited reaper.)

Often times, despite his stature as a Division Leader, William T. Spears appeared to hate Sebastian more than he hated any other demon. It was quite apparent when Claude Faustus had taken Alois' Trancy's soul and placed it within his ring. Of course, he knew that shinigami had Alois' Magic Play and it would've been logical to double check who was messing with the soul (that Grell was assigned to reap.) Nonetheless, the shinigami pursued Sebastian instead. Henceforth, part of his now eased mind highly doubted that Grell was at the Manor for the reasons he stated.

If not, he was here for Deva's soul or perhaps it was an assassination of the sorts? No, even if Grell were ordered, he'd never spill the demon's blood for such a reason. Only in the throes if their passion, or the moonlight's caress, would he lavish in tearing the demon's heart from his chest and placing it within his own, breathless chest cavity. He'd want that liquid fire to pervade in his veins with demon's dark rage and calm suffering. He'd never endure such masochistic ecstasy under an order, where it was limited and not drawn out into one instance of eternity. No, certainly that dimwitted child of a death god wouldn't follow an order such as that.

He was now considering that Jakob meant to betray him, but as his mind mumbled on his carnal needs took over. He found himself in a steady repose that slowly turned into slumber.


	11. Chapter 11

Soooo sorry for not updating in sooooo long. Got caught up with school, work, and graduation...And anime conventions. My William-fangirl personality took over and forced me to write another Kuro fanfic...It's called "Synergy" check it out.

I've also got a new obsession, make-up (mineral based cosmetics really.) And masquerading around as Grell in real life, lolz.

* * *

When the Diva began sleeping in more often, the demon began to grow suspicious. He had stopped receiving letters from Jakob, and his mistress' condition was only getting worse and worse each passing day. He'd often enter her chambers and find her in a cold sweat, her skin growing paler and paler from the lack of proper nutrition. She told him everything she ate made her nauseous, that only blood could salvage her carcass. Astounded, the demon slit his wrist and she eagerly partook of his plasma.

She fed like a young child suckling for the first time, she refused to let go...Refused to be without his blood as her trembling, all too slim, structure struggled to stay up. She moaned like she did that night in the library, moaning as if she were being freed from her sickness. This was her addiction, Sebastian knew that just as he was born evil, Deva was evil. Every human was born evil, it only took an even greater evil to rouse it and a strong soul to circumvent it for the greater good. Deva was not good at all, she was evil.

The sensation of having blood drained from his body was not pleasant, it wasn't for any immortal. Reapers and Demons were born alike, only to choose their own path as they entered adolescence. Still though, each had their own moments of mortality. Reapers felt pain, lust, disgust, and everything a human could while demons could as well. They were mortal feelings and habits, but it was no habit for either demon and reaper to get down on their knees as their blood was drained from their body.

He was close to doing so, he had to grab the Diva by her neck and push her hold off of him. She struggled, reaching for bleeding wrist and crying for more...Crying for perfection and flawlessness...He strangled her into a submissive state, he didn't want to harm her but it seemed she was getting worse. Her body was unraveling as well as her mind. Where was Jakob? He grit his teeth, that damned youthful demon...He had left Deva here to die and for Sebastian to take the fall.

"I know what you're thinking!" Deva screamed at him, "He'll return for me and when he discovers you haven't given me what I need...He'll kill you!"

She clawed at the hand suffocating her, "I need blood to live...I need souls to live..."

"Why hasn't Jakob returned yet?" he held back the anger in his voice, "Why?"

"I don't know!" she wept, "He's stalling, he's going to leave me here to die! Isn't he? Don't let me perish...My love..."

Her blood coated lips (as sickening as it was the substance was quite appealing on her livid face) smiled softly, she spoke gently, "Oh, my love...Don't leave me...Don't leave me at all..."

She took his hand from her neck, gesturing ever so gently, and placed it on her belly, "You grow within me..."

Sebastian's eyes widened only slightly...She spoke again, "Now, we'll be together forever. My soul and your perfect flesh,"

* * *

The first snow fell that day, the day Sebastian was told he had fathered a child in Deva's womb. He spoke in silence, almost paranoid about this conception, as he pulled through his daily choirs. This was ominous, there was something he was not being told. Indeed, Jakob told him that Deva wanted his seed (thus a child) but the way the Diva spoke left little to the imagination. That was not his child, it was the incarnation of Deva's plot. Someone was going to die and he knew his chest would be pinned down by spikes and nails to acheive it.

He began to ponder his options; he could kill the Deva and face Jakob's wrath. He could destroy Jakob upon his arrival and then kill his mistress, or take responsibility for his child and the Diva. The young master would not be pleased about this, not one bit. He did not like the fact that Sebastian had addressed the Diva by her first name alone. He did not even know they had copulated and produced an unborn child. What was he going to do...? He had to remain calm, that was his only option at the moment.

The years of starvation had drained him indeed, but as he looked back into Jakob's earlier promises he started to find a solace. Jakob had vowed on his mistress' life that Sebastian would have the Earl's soul. Looking back on it, Jakob favored his mistress' life far too much to leave her to die. He best return soon though, the Deva needed medical attention that only Jakob could provide.

* * *

It was perhaps Winter back in England when Jakob made it to that spot in Island of Death. Oh, how tragic it was for such youthful demon to lose his way. It was a hard spot to find, laid somewhere midst the large crack across the island hundreds of miles wide. The depleted energy of the rock-slide's demon did not aid his search either since the decay filled the air with crossed signals. He lifted the rocks up though, threw boulders aside, the smell of rot nearing and nearing. He smirked, he was getting closer to the grave.

The bag at his side was heavy, full of substances he could only find in Egypt. Such a glorious, golden land...Gilded decadence and sin...It was the last place in the world where the tombs held what he needed. The spices necessary to perfect the sheathe he would make from an old spider's skin. These substances were made of sweet honey and salt used to perfect the dead.


End file.
